


Of Light and Beauty

by Vryalys



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Drabbles, F/M, Season/Series 08 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-09 14:12:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18918640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vryalys/pseuds/Vryalys
Summary: Collection of Jaime/Brienne Ficlets/Drabbles. Missing scenes, whimsies, sometimes angsty. Matured/Explicit content will be posted separately.New Chapter: red, gold, green and ashHis dreams are painted in red and gold, filled with the stench of ash and burning flesh. His sister stares at him with those green eyes just like his, except hers are dancing like wildfire.





	1. Tidings to Tarth

Brienne sat at the table, quill in hand, her face scrunched up into a frown more intent than usual. She seemed oblivious when he crept up (not quite stealthily as he is an old knight of 40 and some years). He bent over and planted a kiss on the back of neck. He pulled at her robe, exposing the curve where her neck met her shoulder and he trailed kisses down that path, lingering over the faded claw marks.

“Stop japing,” she grunted, moving to push his face away.

He pouted. “Come to bed, Brienne. It is too cold.”

“I have serious business to attend to.”

“Who are you writing to? A love letter to Tormund Giantsbane?” he teased with a slight edge to his voice. The wilding had not given up. “I’m not even sure the Wilding can read.”

This time she turned around and gave him a reproachful look. “I am sending tidings to Tarth.”

Tarth. A vision of rolling emerald hills rising from the sapphire sea floated before his eyes and a sense of peacefulness blanketed his heart. He casually leaned forward. She had only written two words:  _ Dearest Father _ .

“I have passed by Tarth once,” he casually wandered towards the bed. He threw himself onto the stiff mattress that did not give, and winced. He forgot that this was not his own soft downy bed in King’s Landing or the Rock. “Pretty enough a place.”

She turned back to her letter with a non-committal hum.

“What are you sending tidings of?” He affected casualness as he fingered the fine filigree work of his golden hand.  _ Are you telling your father about me? About us? _

“That we have survived the Great War and are well. That our Queen has made Gendry Baratheon the new Lord of Storm’s End, and he would likely call the Baratheon banners to her cause. Father should prepare.”

We. He liked the sound of that.

She was writing quickly now, but still with forceful concentration. Jaime has seen her letters. Her writing reflects her: direct, but warm all the same. No flowery platitudes or flourished script from his Brienne.

She folded the parchment, sealed it and set it aside to be sent in the morn. He lifted the covers as she hurried over and she slipped in beside him. He pushed her robe off her shoulders, rolled over her and buried his face in her chest, listening to the steady thumping of her heartbeat beneath his cheek.

“We should go to Tarth when Spring comes.” His voice is muffled against her skin but she heard him.

We. She liked the sound of that.


	2. Glad-hearted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happiness has never been a friend of the Lannisters. Tyrion could hardly begin to comprehend the dynamics of his brother’s relationship with the lady knight. But he could see that she made him happy enough, and Tyrion is glad-hearted for that.

Happiness has never been a friend of the Lannisters; Tyrion was sure of that. House Lannister is cursed in this respect: all gilt no gold.

Truth be told, he cannot remember the last time he saw his brother happy. Perhaps it was when he was made a Kingsguard, but that quickly went to shits when he realised the Mad King’s true motive.

Cersei probably brought him happiness. But anything she touches is tainted bittersweet with her fickleness and mercurial temperament.

But Ser Brienne. Tyrion could hardly begin to comprehend the dynamics of his brother’s relationship with the lady knight. But he could see that she made him happy enough, and Tyrion is glad-hearted for that.

Brienne’s chamberdoor creaks open and he sees his brother being half heartedly pushed out by the chamber’s occupant. He is laughing, and from his corner, Tyrion could see Brienne’s mouth twitch upwards as Jamie leaned in to steal another kiss.

“Go,” she shoves him across the doorway.

Jaime shoots her a wounded look, “My room is too far away.”

“This is part of Lady Sansa’s private rooms! It is not proper for you to be here!”

“Technically, she is still married to Tyrion and therefore she’s family. I’m sure she doesn’t mind.” He tries to slip past her again.

“Jaime!” Tyrion notes the lack of prefix.

“Give me a goodbye kiss, then. To keep me warm on my long walk back,” he pleads smilingly.

Brienne shoots him a look before leaning in and landing a chaste peck on his lips. He wraps his right arm around her waist, pulls her closer and rubs her neck as he deepens the kiss.

Tyrion coughs discreetly.

Brienne leaps back immediately, as if scalded. They both turn in Tyrion’s direction.

Brienne turns beet red and slams her door shut in Jamie’s face. Jamie sighs and glares at his younger brother’s direction.

“A drink perhaps?” Tyrion offers innocently. “To keep you warm on your long walk back to your room?”

Jaime glares at him. As he walks past, he lands a slap at the back of Tyrion’s head, just like he used to do when they were children.

***

When Brienne returns to her chambers after morning practice the next day, she stops at the doorway and turns around to check her location. This is her room, but her personal effects are no longer there.

She turns around to find a maid behind her, curtsying, “Ser Brienne. Lady Sansa has instructed me to lead you to your new chamber.”

Brinne frowns, “What is wrong with this one?”

The maid curtsies again, “I don’t know, Ser. Please follow me this way.” Brienne follows her down the corridor and up a flight of stairs.

Brienne pushes the door open and finds a bigger chamber, with an attached bath. A fire roars in the corner and her armor sits on the rack in the far end of the room, next to Jaime’s.

Her breath catches in her throat. It is a bigger room because it is set up for two people. But only one bed.

She hears him come up behind her, and he folds his arms around her waist. She turns around and punches him on his arm, “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” he tells her truthfully. “I believe Tyrion spoke with his lady wife this morning,” he finally admits after Brienne continues to glare at him.

Brienne buries her burning face in her hands, “It’s all your fault.”

“Yes, yes,” he answers unrepentantly, his lips curls back into a smile. He draws her closer to him,. “Now let me show you how sorry I am.”


	3. Goodbye, Farewell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne looked at him intently, with the same incisive focus she use to stare down a blade at the enemy. “You were planning to leave without saying anything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Jaime Lannister had to leave, this is how I imagined it should have gone down. Spoilers up to S08E04. Takes place right after the feast, and before That Scene.

“You’re leaving,” Brienne states simply as she watches him struggle to tighten his saddle. “Oh, move aside,” she shoved him out of the way and deftly finished his task.

“Lady Brienne,” Jaime greeted her stiffly, watching her long fingers stroke the mane of his horse. His horse nuzzled her fair head and he felt a pang in the pit of his stomach. “I have kept my promised and fought the Dead with the forces of Men. Now it is time for me to bid you all farewell.”

“But you did not.” Brienne looked at him intently, with the same incisive focus she use to stare down a blade at the enemy. “You were planning to leave without saying anything.”

The stood in silence in the snow. The sound of laughter and merrymaking in the hall seem to fade away, leaving only the two of them in the world.

Jaime looked into her blue eyes. She lifted the corners of her mouth wistfully, “Thank you, Ser Jaime. It was an honour to fight beside you.”

Jaime bowed, “The honour was all mine.”

He was enveloped with a warm hug that blanked his mind. He could not remember when was the last time they had been so close, so close he could feel her hair on his cheek. It was short and coarse, not at all like Cersei’s.

He opened his mouth to say something but the words never came - _what did he want to say anyway, he can’t remember_ \- because her hands cradled his face and and her lips were pressed against his. He counted the blonde lashes fanning out on her bruised cheek as she cautiously traced his lips with her tongue, as if she was imprinting its shape into the depths of her memory.

And then it all ended as suddenly as it had begun. He thought he heard a sigh, or maybe a whisper of a word - _stay_ \- but it was lost to the wind too quickly.

“Brienne…” He caught her hand instinctively as she pulled away. She stopped him with a small, almost imperceptible, shake of her blond head, and slowly pried his fingers off her wrist.

He got on his horse silently. “Farewell, Brienne.”

“Goodbye, Jaime.”

Brienne watched, ignoring the prickling at the back of her eyes, as his stead carried him over the threshold of Winterfell. He looked back at her once, raised his hand in farewell and she waved back, giving him a small smile.

The heat of his body lingered on her arms. She looked up at the night sky, committing to memory every detail of their embrace. She will pretend that he was hers to hold and love for those few precious moments, and that - she tells herself sternly - is more than enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually really pissed with where the show took Brienne and Jaimes's relationship, because the consummation was so pointless in overarching plot. I'm ok with the idea that Jaime would ultimately go back to Cersei, but the way it was done cheapened the bond Jaime and Brienne for no reason. That I'm not ok with.


	4. red, gold, green and ash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His dreams are painted in red and gold, filled with the stench of ash and burning flesh. His sister stares at him with those green eyes just like his, except hers are dancing like wildfire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I obviously wrote this after 8x04, and before 8x05, before they threw Jaime's entire character out of the window.

Jaime is having fevered dreams. His dreams are painted in red and gold, filled with the stench of ash and burning flesh.

It starts out with Cersei burning in dragonfire, but of late, he dreams of Brienne. Of Cersei setting Brienne alight before his eyes, just like what Aerys would do his accused enemies. His sister stares at him with those green eyes just like his, except hers are dancing like wildfire.

_No one walks away from me._

_Burn them all._

He jolts awake, gasping for air. Brienne stir beside him. She turns and reaches for his right arm, she strokes the scarred stump comfortingly while murmuring sleepily, “Go back to sleep. I’m here.”

Jaime turns his body closer to her, his left arm pulling her up against his chest. He plants a kiss on her forehead and buries her face in the crook of her neck, willing the dreams away.

The smell of smoke lingers in the cold winter air.

\----

Sansa and Bran Stark were waiting for him as he walked past the Great Hall.

“You’re leaving.” It was not a question from Bran Stark.

Jaime stops and turns to face them. Sansa stares back at him, her expression conflicted.

“Ser Brienne...” Now that is a question. Bran had obviously told her.

“Tell her…” He starts. “Tell her I don’t love her anymore.”

Sansa frowns, “Ser Jaime…”

“Don’t let her leave Winterfell.” _Keep her safe. Don’t let her die._

Sansa falls silent. Jaime turns around and walks into the courtyard. Bran closes his eyes and sighs, “The things we do for love.”


End file.
